


Calling Card

by methylviolet10b



Series: Camera Obscura [7]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: No idea where this is going, Prompt Fic, serial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-04
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-04-07 14:33:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4266810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/methylviolet10b/pseuds/methylviolet10b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes you hunt for clues. Sometimes the clues come to you. Written for JWP #3.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Calling Card

**Author's Note:**

> This is a continuation of Camera Obscura, Unlucky Number, Another Angle, The Job, Prerogative, and The Enemy of My Enemy (Is Still A Freak). If you haven't read those, this might not make much sense. And absolutely no beta. This was written in a huge rush. You have been warned.

Two days.  
  
Two entire days since they’d managed to pull Lestrade and John Watson out of the hands of the serial killer just in the nick of time. Both were still in hospital, recovering from the combination of drugs and injuries they’d received, and under heavy guard. In her one hasty visit, Sally was prepared to swear she’d seen more security personnel than nurses.  
  
Still, it had been more than forty hours since she, Dimmock, and Sherlock Holmes had entered into something Sally was hard-pressed not to refer to as a devil’s bargain, to work together to bring down the twisted bastard who’d taken too many lives already, and nearly claimed two more. She’d certainly swallowed her pride when agreeing to temporarily transfer over to Dimmock’s squad in order to keep working the case, both at the time, and too many times since. Dimmock himself wasn’t actively trying to antagonize her, but the rest of his crew more than made up for his restraint. But she’d bit her tongue, minded her p’s and q’s like a good little Detective Sergeant, because there was no way in hell she was going to get taken off this case, not if she could help it. Not even though it meant putting up with all the slights and slurs in full sight of the Freak.  
  
All that, and they’d gotten precisely _nowhere_. Nothing but dead ends and a frustrating lack of evidence. How the hell was it even possible to have multiple crime scenes, several dead bodies, two (thankfully) living witnesses to a murderous attempt, and not a single damned lead worth following up on?  
  
It was almost, _almost_ enough to make her think that Sherlock Holmes might have a point about the forensics teams at the Yard in general. Almost.  
  
Speaking of the Freak, he’d likely beat her back to the Yard unless she got a move on. Dimmock had sent them both home a few hours ago – well, sent her home; the Freak had vanished on his own half an hour before – with instructions to stay away at least long enough to shower, eat, pack a kit, and catch a bit of a kip, unless called back. Which she had been. Dimmock hadn’t said much, but he had let slip that the Freak was also en route from visiting Watson in hospital. She didn’t want to give him, or the rest of Dimmock’s team, a chance to snipe at her if she came in after he did. She increased her pace, dodging and weaving around the pedestrians in her way.  
  
Between those oblivious to others with their faces glued to their mobile screens and earplugs in their ears, and the city suits who cared about nothing but getting to where they were going and damn anyone else, it was a challenge. She received a few bumps and brushes along the way, but she didn’t spill a single drop of her coffee from her to-go cup or lose an inch of her stride, not on the sidewalks, not dodging her fellows on the way to Dimmock’s office.  
  
Surprisingly, Dimmock wasn’t there, but DS Maxsen assured her that he’d be right back. Sally could have taken the one visitor’s chair in the office, but instinct suggested that she stand instead. She compromised by leaning slightly against one wall while sipping her rapidly cooling coffee.  
  
“Sergeant Donovan.”  
  
Only years of control kept Sally from jumping or spitting out her sip of coffee. She hadn’t heard or seen him approach, but there he was in the doorway, freakishly pale eyes fastened on her like she was a crime scene.  
  
No, not just on her. On her _coat_.  
  
“You have something on your shoulder. No, don’t move,” Holmes said before she could ask. One long-fingered hand disappeared into one of the pockets in his posh coat, and emerged holding his pocket magnifier – and an empty evidence bag.  
  
Sally wouldn’t let him remove it before Dimmock arrived and the forensic techs had a chance to photograph it in situ. It was doubly maddening trying to keep the Freak in check and be reasonable when she couldn’t actually see whatever it was herself. But her patience paid off eventually, both in the look of respect Dimmock gave her when he realized Holmes had actually waited, and when Holmes automatically moved aside so she could better see the thing once it had been safely collected.  
  
Staring at it, Sally really wanted to ask what the hell it was. She didn’t, however; she knew how the Freak would react to the question. Instead, she stared at the intricately cut skull on the unusually large dried leafand limited herself to “What kind of leaf is that?”  
  
“Nothing native, I think. Forensics is calling in a specialist from the Royal Horticulture Society.”  
  
“ _Catalpa bignonioides_.”  
  
Dimmock did a double-take. “What?”  
  
The Freak looked up briefly from his phone, his thumbs still flying across the keys. “Also known as an Indian Bean Tree, the Cigar Tree, and the Southern catalpa. Native to the southeastern United States. Its roots are highly poisonous.”  
  
_And that explains why he’d know what it was_ , Sally thought to herself. “Another puzzle to his next victim, then,” she hazarded.  
  
“A clue, certainly.” Most uncharacteristically, Holmes paused, clearly thinking about saying something else.  
  
“And?” Dimmock demanded, seeing the same thing.  
  
Holmes tilted his head slightly. “The killer is escalating. He targeted _you_ , Donovan. He’s always left clues, but never for anyone specifically. _On_ someone specifically. The only other detective he’s paid any attention to -”  
  
“…is Lestrade,” Dimmock finished, looking appalled. “Sally…”  
  
“Good.”  
  
She’d surprised both men. That was obvious, but only Dimmock spoke. “Good?”  
  
“Yes. Good that we have a clue, finally. Better that I might be a target than some random unsuspecting civilian out there. At least I’m better prepared.”  
  
_And if the killer does come after me?_ Sally thought to herself. _Best of all. Bring it._

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted July 3, 2015. Picture prompt can be found [here](http://www.thisiscolossal.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/leaf-6.jpg).


End file.
